Pure Lonely Nightmares
by Defiled Angel
Summary: *YAOI ALERT!* SephirothxVincent. not much else to tell.


Pure Lonely Nightmares  
by** [Defiled Angel 777][1]**

  
  
  
Escape from demons:  
*South Continent, the present*  
  
_ It was over. Done with. Finished. They were the victors, _

but all hope was lost to the dark rouge. 

He never had to lift another weapon so long as he lived, but why did he feel so hollow inside?   
  
It was as though some one had thrust their cold hands inside his chest and pulled out whatever heart he had left. Tears flooded his eyes, and mingled with the blood on his cheeks. He clutched Death Penalty tightly in his good hand, so that he could make a half hearted attempt at wiping away the tears with his metallic claw. He clenched the cold iron fist and the thought made his stomach turn. He looked away, quickly, before the trickle of tears became a flood. He felt faint, from his recent loss of blood, and looking at the hideous arm wasn't exactly doing wonders for his will to stay conscious. Everything was happening in a blur, but he found himself running away, stumbling over rocks and tree roots that snarled around his ankles. His sorrow was the only thing that felt pure to him, all the rest was corruption and evil. Aside from sorrow, the only other pure thing he had known was love, and he had only known that once, unlike sorrow, that was his constant companion, ripping his soul from his body. At least it was pure.   
  
Somewhere in the daze of running from his problems, he had one lucid thought in his turmoil filled mind- /Escape/   
  
* * * * * *   
  
Hearing the silent scream:   
*Nibelheim, Ten years ago*  


It was cold and dark in the basement, like a tomb, sealed behind closed doors tormented by lonely nightmares, fiendishly clawing at his chest lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely tears run down his cheeks, but he cannot wipe them away.   
  
"So, of all the places you could go, you chose to return here? Fascinating. . . fascinating." The professor mumbled half to himself, and half to his subject.  
  
The young soldier felt all his muscles tense, as the professor adjusted his glasses on his rat-like nose, a few arrant strands of his long greasy hair had escaped the ponytail and hung before his eyes. He immediately hunched over his work again and scribbled notes down on his tablet.   
  
He didn't reply. It was a rhetorical question, one that he asked himself many a time, when he found himself returning time and time again to this sleepy town, specifically to this run down moss covered mansion.   
  
The once great ShinRa mansion now stood, uninhabited, save for Professor Hojo's occasional visits to the former headquarters of the JENOVA project.   
  


The professor, breaking Sephiroth's train of thought turned around with a sadistic grin on his face, bearing a syringe.   
  
"It's very convenient that you showed up now, because it's time for another Mako treatment, Hmm, I wonder if you somehow are drawn here by JENOVA, Sephiroth," he said, as he pushed Sephiroth's starlight silver hair behind his shoulder, drawing out the touch. He loved the way the young soldier writhed at this touch, like he would catch some disease from the slight contact.   
Sephiroth's hatred of the man was more than obvious, and he wondered if the Professor was doing this on purpose. He anticipated the stinging of the needle, but he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out when Hojo pushed the gleaming needle in as slowly as possible, prolonging his suffering.   
  
It felt as though cold steel coursed through his veins. It was a terrible cold, numbing feeling that occurred whenever the Mako was administered. This was his life though. Training for SOLDIER, Mako infusion and more training. It had been that way for as long as he could remember, an endless cycle of cold and lonliness.  
  


[I was wondering, 

If you could tell me why things 

turn out this way 

everytime. Feelings 

are so strange, so. . . foreign 

so alien. Returning here makes me ill. 

Something disgusting pulling towards the . . . 

Mountains, 

somrthing so gentle calling from the basement.] 

That night, as the young soldier slept, he dreamed.  
  
_ "I'm sorry. So sorry, so very sorry.  
I let you down, but I did love you though,  
even though you left me  
for another,  
my love."_  
  
The most beautiful sight he had ever beheld was now before him. Mist obscured the details as he stood cemented into place. Long raven hair flowed behind the figure swathed in a red cape, as crimson as blood, and the rest of him was covered in a black that was as deep as a dark starless midnight. Stars shone in those blood red eyes, though and spoke of a thousand heartaches and lovelorn grief as the figure offered Sephiroth a hand as pale as the moon and promised to be the softest thing he had ever touched.   
Sephiroth awoke with a start to find tears silently streaming down his face and landing on the soft pillows. He couldn't control it any longer, it felt as though it was him that was begging forgiveness of a lost love, and he wept as he buried his face in the pillows.   
  
The next day passed uneventfully, and Professor Hojo had left for Midgar. Although Sephiroth felt that he should have been grateful, all he could think about was the beautiful person in his dream. He felt the need to hold whom ever it was that had spoken those sad beautiful words. He could almost feel that soft raven hair. The dream seemed too real to be just a dream. Eventually, he brushed it off as an after affect of the Mako treatment, and tried to forget that raven haired beauty.   
  
That night however, he dreamed the same dream. That exact same melodic voice beckoning him to come, and unlock the mysteries. This time, instead of being frozen in place, he willed his feet to move, concentrating on that one action, and slowly he moved forward. His eyes transfixed on the beautiful creature, so near, but yet so out of his reach. He continued to walk forward towards that sweet voice and soft promises- suddenly everything went totally black.  
  
He awoke the next morning at the bottom of a stairwell, clad in his nightshirt with an awful bump on his head. His Mako green eyes flashed open and his silver hair shimmered like a river of stars as the early morning sun peeked in through the small slit of a window. The basement smelled old and dank, as though it had not been opened in a century. Memories lurked here, so thick that he could almost taste them, floating in the air. His heart thudded against his rib cage and his breathing quickened. There seemed to be something lurking in the shadows. Felling lost without his sword, he backed away, and cautiously walked up the long twisting spiral staircase.   
  
* * * * * *    
Falling softly, hitting the ground hard:  
*Nibelheim: Ancient History*  
  
"Please, please, don't make this harder than it has to be. You-- you-- you know how I feel about you, but this just can't work." She turned her lovely face away and pushed away her glasses and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her lab coat. She was a slight woman and very gentle in nature. The sobs that wracked her fragile body were almost too much for her to handle, threatening to pull her apart at the seams at any given moment. A few strands of her light brown hair had escaped the loose bun on the top of her head. Her cheeks were flushed from crying. She was the most intelligent annd beautiful woman in the whole world, to him and he could not understand her rash thinking.   
  
"All right," was his response. He didn't do anything besides stand there numbly while she wept. It would obviously be the wrong thing to do, to hold her after her blatant rejection of him. He raked his gloved hand though his ebony hair, which fell limply in his eyes. "I understand. Whomever it is, I'm sure you'll be happy with him."  
  
He felt so torn inside, the grief threatened to send him plummeting down the cliff of angst. He managed to keep a cool exterior though, wishing that it weren't so that the only person that could ever touch his heart could be leaving him. No, it just wasn't possible.   
  
Later, that day, as he stood in the courtyard of the sleepy town, he once again heard her sorrowful sobs. Coming closer to investigate, he saw his loathsome enemy, Professor Hojo embrace his only love.   
  
He felt so used, so impossibly and utterly alone. He crouched against the brick wall, and could hear her voice faintly.   
  
"Are you sure about this? What about the baby?"   
  
"Hush, hush," he soothed, "the baby will be fine, that's why he's here isn't he? Never fear, you are making the greatest contribution to science the world has ever known. Once JENOVA has-"  
  
/I wish I was dead. I wish I was dead. I WISH I WAS DEAD!!!/   
  
He couldn't stand it no longer, so he ran back to the moss covered mansion that served as H.Q. for the scientists. Tears streamed down his face. Ultimate betrayl. It hurt so badly. Whatever was left of himself was now crushed. He didn'rt care what happened. Not anymore, not ever again. He was waiting in their loathsome basement library. When Professor Hojo entered that night.  
  
Hojo hummed slightly as he hung his jacket on the coat rack, and slipped on his lab coat. Out of the shadows, Stepped Vincent, his eyes coldly flashing with hatred. 

"What, what have you done to her?!" he thundered. "CONTRIBUTION TO SCIENCE! IS THAT ALL SHE IS TO YOU!"   
  
Hojo looked at Vincent silently, staring at him, looking him up and down. Finally he responded. "I could use another test subject. You see, I have come up with a formula to reveal people for what they truly are inside, and I think that you would be the perfect specimen. As quick, as the snake he was, he drew a revolver from under his lab jacket and--   
  
"Eternal sleep, 

I am punished 

demon that 

I am."

  
  
* * * * *   
  
Silent Prison:   
*Nibelhiem, Ten years ago*  
The nightmares quieted their thrashing, ended their torture, stopped their tearing at him. It was quiet, calm serene, almost as though. . . it was like being with her. Only, not her. This stranger had her mannerisms, gentle nature and quiet grace. Only this stranger was gentle with his heart, understanding, desired to be with him, wouldn't ever hurt him. The beautiful stranger sat on the quiet deserted beach waves softly lapping at bare feet and a smile so enticing.   
  
Sephiroth now fully dressed and awake, armed with Masamune, once again made the descent down the stairs. Something behind the wooden door beckoned him down. He tried the knob, several times, but without success. Growing agitated, he lifted Masamune over his head, and brought it down upon the stubborn lock. Metal splintered all over the room, raining down every where as the door opened with a dramatic whoosh.   
  
Slowly, he stepped into the room and beheld a morbid sight. The room contained one solitary coffin, sitting in the middle of the small dungeon. Cautiously he walked forward, and ran his gloved fingers across the dusty mahogany. He sensed the lovelorn soul near by, and his eyes watered. He was too late, to meet the one that he loved most. Curiosity clawing at his being, he carefully lifted the lid up. Slowly, inch by inch, he moved the lid away. It was no trouble he was far stronger than average men, an affect of the Mako. He was extremely nervous to see what lay beyond this barrier, keeping him from his love.   
  
When at last the lid was removed, he drew a sharp gasp. He had been expecting an aged skeleton, or decomposed flesh clinging to a rotting carcass. Instead, he found the raven haired beauty of his dreams. Long eyelashes rested on aristocratic cheekbones clothed in ivory skin. His long hair fanned out about his beautiful face as he lay, eyes closed, lips softly parted. His arm crossed his chest, and resting atop it, where his other arm should be, rested a bright metallic claw.   
  
Tears formed in the young soldier's eyes as he gently lifted the one whom he had grown to love from the miserable coffin. He was too late. He felt much remorse on his late arrival, standing there numbly holding his love in his arms. The pale man weighed next to nothing and it felt odd to hold some one so slight in his arms. Slowly, he leaned forward and softly placed a kiss on those petal soft lips, not expecting any kind of response.   
  
Sephiroth was shocked, when his lips left that soft mouth, to find ruby eyes staring up at him, shining with tears. He gently removed one of the gloves from his hand and gently brushed it against the other man's soft skin. It was the softest thing he had ever felt, although something was wrong. His pale face looked flushed and seemed unnaturally warm.   
  
* * * *   
  
Agony's heart:  
*South Continent: The present*   
  
It hurt. Like the pain in his side whenever he drew a gasping breath. It hurt like the gun shot wound on his shoulder. It hurt in his heart to remember these things. Every time he tried to atone for a sin, another seemed to build. He had let his loved one become a human guinea pig, a 'contribution to science'. For that, he punished himself by sleeping forever, only in his dreams he had caused even more trouble, and broken an innocent heart. Again, he slept. Then, by sleeping instead of atoning for his murderous sins he had let the planet fall to ruins. 

So onward he ran, trying desperately to right the wrongs and fix his mistakes.  
  
And they called him a hero.   
  
_ I heard the many words that were left unspoken._  
  
* * * *   
  
*Nibelheim: Ten years ago*   


When the sun sets, 

know that I will be with you. 

When you say it isn't so, that you can't love me, 

know that I will love you. 

When the stars fall from the sky, 

know that the landed in your eyes 

and leave me.   
  
When Vincent awoke, his vision was greatly blurred, and he felt a blistering heat all over his body. Pale sunlight, signifying early morning found it's way throughout he heavy drapes. It to him was the most beautiful thing that he had seen in years, that pale sunlight. Slowly, he closed his eyes. It seemed like moments, it might have been hours that passed, when he heard the footsteps approaching. He felt a soft cool hand brush against his face, and something cool and damp. Opening his eyes, he tried to sit up. To his dismay, he found that that had an unpleasant side affect. The world seemed to lurch beneath his worn body. He swayed and clumsily fell against the person sitting on the edge of his bed. He shivered, as he felt a warm quilt being pulled around him as the stranger gathered him in to his arms and he buried his face into the comforting shoulder.   
  
Days passed. Sephiroth, spent every waking moment at his love's side. Gently mopping his face with a damp washcloth. Putting blankets on when he shivered, removing them when he was cold, and even sleeping next to him on top of the blankets. He sighed, remembering when he'd held his love in his arms. So tightly.   
  
The next day, Vincent awoke to find Sephiroth sleeping in a chair with his head resting on the bed. Vincent's gaze softened.  
  
/This is who took care of me?/  
  
For what seemed like an eternity, Vincent lay, gazing at the beautiful creature who had taken care of him. No longer was he to be tormented by nightmares, alone and frightened, now he had someone who loved him. He could just feel it. Slowly Sephiroth awakened, and looked upon Vincent's face. It didn't look so flushed, and he had regained some normal color to his skin, which felt cool to the touch.   
  
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Sephiroth asked.   
  
Vincent didn't reply. He looked down at his love and responded with a gentle kiss that left Sephiroth stunned.  
  
"How's that for an answer?"  
  
_The door that never opens:_

Lovely love, show me your heart, and I will show you mine. 

Beauty incarnate, open your arms, and I will open my wings. 

Lovely love, love me forever and i will- 

  
  
Later that day, Vincent was feeling well enough to leave the bed. After proper introductions, Sephiroth threw open the curtains and windows. Sunlight and fresh air flooded into the room. The lingering touch of sickness could be felt leaving as Vincent sighed deeply.   
  
Sephiroth, picking up his lovely companion carried him down the hall of the old mansion. Finally, he reached their destination, the spacious bathroom. Vincent didn't object, as Sephiroth helped him remove his garments and helped him into the tub of steaming water. Vincent sighed as his long hair clung damply to his face. He peered at Sephiroth who's back was turned, rummaging in the cabinets. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and he looked elsewhere.   
Sephiroth finally, turned, in his hands he held a water pitcher, a bottle of soap and a sponge. He brushed a wisp of his extravagantly long hair from his eyes and hastily apologized. "I'm sorry. . . Vincent, but the only soap we have is lavender scented."   
  
Vincent giggled at this as Sephiroth poured some onto the sponge and proceeded to give Vincent the most relaxing bath of his life.   
  
As Sephiroth gently moved his hands over Vincent's chest, he began explaining the circumstances that had brought him into the basement. By the time he had washed over every inch of Vincent, he had finished his story.   
  
"Fascinating. . ." Vincent murmured as he leaned forward so Sephiroth could scrub his back. "And you say you saw me in a dream. All that I can remember is the nightmares stopping. They'd gone on for so long."   
  
"So long?" Sephiroth repeated, emptying the contents of the water pitcher over Vincent's head and putting a some of the sweet smelling soap in Vincent's hair. He was up to his elbows in the lather as he gently worked it into the strands of hair.   
  
"Mm, yes. I must have been down there asleep for . . . . god, I have no idea."  
Sephiroth smiled slightly as he inhaled the lavender scent of the hot steamy bathroom, and helped Vincent out of the tub. Gently drying him with a soft towel, he slid a robe around his shoulders.   
"Your clothes are downstairs, drying. I washed them for you."   
"Thank you," Vincent said tiredly, as Sephiroth held his hand and they walked back towards the bedroom.   
  
Sephiroth laughed a little as Vincent studied his reflection intently in the mirror. He was wearing Sephiroth's light gray sweater with a pair of black slacks.   
  
"Hmmm. The sleeves are a little long, Vincent stated, as he rolled the sleeves up a little.  
  
"It's getting dark out," Sephiroth mused, as they walked down the stairs together. "How about going for a little walk?"  
  
"Ok," Vincent replied, taking Sephiroth's hand.   
  
Their 'little walk' turned out to be a lengthy trek across the scenic meadows that surrounded Nibelheim. They finally came to rest under a weeping willow tree. Sephiroth sighed as he leaned against the tree's thick trunk and watched the leaves sway in the wind.   
  
"So how does it feel? To finally be free?"  
  
"I don't know. A little overwhelmed, relieved,"   
/guilty. you should still be down there. you don't deserve to be here. you should be dead. no, no, no, death is too good for you-/  
  
Sephiroth tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "You never did tell me why you were in the basement in a coffin. Would you mind sharing?"  
  
"I'd . . . I'd rather not talk about it, too much. When the only one I'd ever loved needed me, I wasn't there for her. She's gone now, because of me. My punishment," he held up his mechanical right arm, "to be a contributiion to science and to rot away in the basement, tortured by nightmares and to suffer for what I'd done. I- I-"  
  
Sephiroth smiled softly at Vincent and tiled his chin up to gaze into his ruby eyes.  
  
"Now why would some one leave something so beautiful to rot in a tomb?" His voice was a whisper, as Vincent's lips trembled slightly.   
  
"No, I'm not beautiful, I'm a monster, a freak a- a- a-"  
  
"No you're not," Sephiroth said, lightly, still whispering. "I'm the one who's a monster, because If you turn your back for one second-- oh the terrible things I'll do to you," at this, he gently nipped at the sensative skin of Vincent's neck. Vincent shudderd slightly and sighed.   
  
Repent:   
*South Continent: The Present*  
  
Vincent, half giddy and half nauseous finally collapsed at his final destination: where the lifestream gushed to the surface of the planet, near Mideel. He drew a ragged breath, glad that the painful memories would soon stop, but for now he could not find the strength to move the few feet to the roiling green liquid. He put his head down in defeat and rested. It was not a peaceful rest though. Filled with tourment and anguish, he recalled his last moments with his beloved. When Professor Hojo had arrived, Vincent had found himself torn. He listened to Hojo's conversations with other scientists about their specimin's progress and gathered that Sephiroth was Lucrecia and Hojo's son. Horrified with this news, Vincent had requested of Sephiroth to lock him in the basement coffin again.   
  
When his ruby eyes opened, they had lost all their sparkle and luster. He gazed ahead past his outstretched arm, fingertips almost touching, but not quite. finally, out of self-hatred he gathered the strength to pull himself over to the green liquid and fall in head first, a soft smile playing against his delicate face. Now perhaps he could finally silence the screaming and anger. Now, maybe at long last the nightmares would finally end.   
  
__

Sors immanis-- Et inanis . . . . 

Down in the dark, walls of stone, covered in ivy. 

Entombed forever, never show me the light never show me hope. 

Leave me be Maybe it wasn't meant for us to be happy.   
  


   [1]: Mailto:defiledangel777@aol.com



End file.
